


Three Days

by rxdxctxd



Series: The King of Larksturn Tomb [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Bonding, First Meetings, Gen, The romantic ship tag is only there bc you can see where someof it builds from, Trans Character, Trans Living, Trans Male Character, and this is part of a series in which they definitively are together, so just know it’s only there if you squint, some nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxdxctxd/pseuds/rxdxctxd
Summary: The full story of what transpired between Ging and Kite meeting, and Ging and Kite leaving together.
Relationships: Ging Freecs & Kaito | Kite, Ging Freecs/Kaito | Kite
Series: The King of Larksturn Tomb [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920238
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I finished a chapter fic.

Ging was the kind of person that liked the long way. Scenic routes, country roads, paths you could only take by foot. He liked the long way when it was harder, and he liked it when it was the lazy route. To Ging, anything worth doing was worth taking your time with, and any place worth going was worth an adventure worth of stories about getting there. 

That was what brought him here, to a small town a small ways from a nearby port town —Ging was on his way to the port. But like every other town he passed through, he wanted to see this place first. 

The town was the exact opposite of sprawling. It was downright congested. Buildings seemed to be built so close to each other that they’d all topple if you knocked one down, crashing the whole community like one great big house of cards. From the high point Ging stood from looking at the tiered structure of the city, that’s pretty much what it looked like, too.

“Let’s see what this place has got!” he said, grinning. 

—

What it had, was a lot of poverty. Ging was kind of alarmed as he walked through the streets. There camps set up in many of the alleys, and beggars on many of the corners. He wished that he’d brought more physical money with him so he could spare more.

The other thing it had in spades was stray animals. Which perhaps was to be expected, maybe, for a place with as much of a population density as this place. Ging took them to be his tour guides, following them along as they went about their lives in the streets. As he went along more and more flocked to him until he was patrolling the city’s streets with his own personal pack of dogs. People began to stare and he shrugged them off with indifference.

After awhile the dogs he’d been following had taken to following him, leaving Ging walking aimlessly. But as he crossed a bridge he noticed a crow fly into the city’s sewers, and it caught his attention. Enough so that it was worth investigating, he thought. Crows don’t typically have business in sewers.

So down he went! He climbed down the slopes that went down to beneath the bridge, most of his newfound dogs following him as he went. One of the dogs, upon reaching the bottom, raced into the sewer without him like it had been there before. 

“There must be _something_ in there.” Ging reckoned, talking to himself. “I don’t know what, but something. What attracts animals?”

He puzzled it over as he entered the sewers himself.

Inside, the smell was gross, but Ging quickly found that there was comforting similarity in exploring poorly lit sewers to exploring underground ruins. Weird smells, bad light, and a sense of adventure. Ging felt in his element as he wandered through the the corridors of the sewer paths.

And eventually, he...found it?

Except he hadn’t really, he’d just found more questions, as what he reached was a gathering of dogs, a few birds, a cat, and a bonafide actual horse. They were all contently resting, as if this one spot deep in a sewer was a completely natural place for them to be.

“You guys live down here?” he wondered aloud, walking amongst the animals. The dog that had run in ahead of him was with them, as was the crow. Ging was speechless.

“What’s down here for all you?” he said, walking to the horse and sitting down beside it. He pet its face and several dogs gathered around his lap for the same treatment.

—

Some time passed with Ging simply sitting with the animals, enjoying their company, blissed out in the comfort of warm fuzzy bodies nestled all around him. It wasn’t until footsteps began to sound in the distance that his attention to his surroundings beyond the animals perked up even in the slightest. 

Eventually, the figure of a young man appeared before him, holding a loaf of bread.

He looked about Ging’s own age, and Ging watched as emotions cycled across his face. Fear, aggression, anger, and then, confusion. He stepped closer to get a better look at Ging, and Ging noted that even more dogs had followed the boy in. It occurred to Ging that he was looking at the reason for the congregation of a small pound in the city sewer system.

“You live down here with these guys?” Ging asked, dog licking his face. “Sounds fun!”

The teen’s defensive demeanour dropped.

“Who...are you?” he asked, sounding like he’d been stuck on what exactly to say. His expression looked baffled.

“I’m Ging! I’m just passing through this city but I saw some animals come down here and thought I’d take a look. You’ve got quite the family!”

The teen’s expression didn’t change at all.

“You came all the way down here...for no reason?”

Ging shrugged gently, maintaining his big smile. “I thought it might be interesting. And I was right! What’s your name?”

“Uh. Kite.”

“Nice to meet you! You must be great with animals.” Ging said. 

“Um. I guess?”

“Why don’t you sit down?”

Kite blinked at the suggestion and then sat down across from Ging, dogs immediately moving to sit on his lap as well. Ging watched him as he shrugged off his bulky coat.

The teen was remarkably thin underneath it, his shirt clinging to a frame that seemed almost skeletal. It occurred to Ging that the bread the boy was carrying was probably a hard earned treat.

“You should become a Hunter.” he commented, having never developed a sense of tact in his life. “You’d probably be good at it and you’d eat more.”

Kite closed his eyes and shook his head, holding up his hands and probably trying to process quite a lot at once. 

“What’s a Hunter?” he asked, ignoring the comment about his weight. 

Ging smiled broadly, stretching his arms out widely.

“Well, I’m a Hunter!” he proclaimed. “I’m a pro and everything. We track and find treasure, knowledge, artifacts, animals and magical beasts, you name it! And we protect what we find, and preserve it. I’m into old ruins. I excavated the ruins of the Lurka royal burial ground and set up the nonprofits to preserve and restore them last year. I work with archeologists and historians a lot. I’ve met lots of other kinds of Hunters, though. You’re good with animals; good Hunters are well-liked by animals. You’d make a good Beast or Magical Beast Hunter, I bet.”

Kite blinked.

“You excavated a royal burial ground?” he said in disbelief, skipping over most of what was said. “How old are you?”

Ging enthusiastically nodded in response.

“I’m sixteen now. How old are you?”

“I’m fifteen...I think. Jeez, you’re only one year older than me.” Kite said. “You’ve done all that?”

Ging nodded again. “I’ve been a Hunter for four years now. The ruins are just my big achievement. They gave me a star on my license for that. Before that, I did lots of smaller hunts to raise the money to do it. I had to raise a lot to finance everything myself.”

Ging watched Kite as he took in the information, then got hung up on a bit of information himself. 

“What do you mean, ‘I think’?” he asked. 

“Well, I don’t know my birthday.” Kite explained. “And the days on the street bleed together. I don’t keep a calendar, so my count might be off.”

Ging frowned. He and Kite came from completely different worlds. Ging might eschew having a home now, preferring to be on the go, but that was way different from what Kite did. Ging had a house he could return to if he wanted. Kite had a corner of a sewer.

“You should have a birthday.” Ging said, not actually to anyone. 

Kite laughed a little. “Probably.”

Ging hummed.

“Well, it’s May 21st; why not today? You can celebrate rebirth and new changes.”

Kite looked at Ging weird with a cocked brow.

“How, exactly, am I being reborn? What are you talking about?”

Ging relaxed back against the horse behind him, letting the dog on his lap paw higher to his chest. He looked at Kite in genuine confusion; what wasn’t clear? Then, it clicked.

“Did you think I was going to leave you here?”

Kite recoiled in surprise.

“Wh..why wouldn’t I?” he argued. “You’re trying to say you _weren’t_? I just met you and you’re a guest in my sewer. I just met you!”

“Yeah, but I like you.” Ging said plainly. “You’re a good person and I can tell by looking at you. You’re strong-willed and capable. You’ve survived through the odds. I imagine you didn’t buy that bread, so you’re not afraid to do things that must be done and you’re capable of achieving them. And you’re good with animals, so good that you’ve got your own personal petting zoo.”

Ging smiled, the dog on his chest licking his face again.

“You’re exactly the kind of person I like.” he said again. “I don’t want to leave you here struggling when I could take you with me. So I want to take you with me! You’d make a good Hunter too, and I could mentor you.”

Kite was quiet for awhile, his face tense as he processed what he heard. 

“I still don’t know you.” Kite said finally. “And no offence, but you don’t look like like someone that has a home either.”

Ging laughed. 

“None taken.” he said. “I don’t. Well, not one that I actually go to. I live on the go. I prefer it this way.”

Kite blinked. 

“Then why would I want to go with you?” he asked.

“Because I think you’re like me, and would like it this way.”

A silence fell around them, so Ging continued, seeing that that wasn’t enough of an answer.

“If you come with me you won’t always have a good place to sleep. You’ll get rained on, you’ll get dirty. You’ll trek through long travels with too much sun and not enough shade. There won’t be a lot of time spent in the same place. But you won’t be alone. You’ll never be bored. And I can promise you that you’ll never go hungry again. I can promise that your needs will be met. And I can teach you so that you can do all that for yourself.”

Ging paused to phrase things in his head. 

“I can’t give you a home. But I can give you a place to belong, and I can give you a friend.”

Ging kept quiet while Kite weighed everything he just said. Hopefully, Kite would be interested. They might have just met, but Ging really didn’t want to leave him behind. Kite seemed special. If he left him, he’d probably think about it for the rest of his life. 

Kite spoke up.

“I...still don’t know you. You could be lying.” he said hesitantly. 

Ging frowned, and took a moment to think. He wasn’t lying, and couldn’t imagine why he would be, but Kite was valid in being cautious. In fact, the caution was another nice trait Ging could tack on Kite’s already impressive list.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ging started. “I’ll stay here three days. If after three days with me you don’t believe me and want to stay, I’ll leave you without argument. But spend three days with me before you decide.”

Kite bit his lip, was silent for a minute, then sighed.

“Fine. Three days.” he agreed, and Ging broke out in a smile. 


	2. The First Day

“I really didn’t think you’d sleep in here.” Kite commented as Ging awoke the next morning. 

Ging blinked a few times as he oriented himself. He was in the sewers, with Kite. He’d fallen asleep with a bunch of dogs. His bladder was full and his chest ached, and both of those things required immediate attention that Kite could _not_ be involved in.

“Where else would I sleep?” he asked, sitting up and fumbling for his pack.

“An inn? We have those in town.”

“It’s like you just met me.” Ging laughed. “I hardly ever use inns. Besides, the idea is to be around you. It’s easier to trust someone you can watch, no?”

Kite smiled gently. 

“I suppose.”

“That said, I gotta go piss and stuff. I’ll be right back; don’t follow me.” Ging said, standing up with his pack on his shoulder.

Ging took off to find a separate bend of the waterways where Kite wouldn’t see him, a light panic in his chest because he hadn’t thought through his idea to stay. His fingers nervously tapped the straps of his pack, which he did not have a good excuse for taking on a piss break if Kite asked. There were a lot of things that Ging wouldn’t be able to explain without saying that he‘s trans, he realised, and Ging wasn’t ready to take that step. Not for three days, at least. He’d have to tell Kite if they travelled together, but that wasn’t their relationship yet, so for now he couldn’t know. Not yet.

Ging set down his pack in an empty section of sewer and dug through a pocket until he found the pouch for his STP prosthesis. He’d have to start actually wearing it for the three day period. Which he could do, no problem, he had a harness for it —Ging just didn’t like the form of a prominent penis bouncing around in the loose flowing clothing he preferred. 

But the harness could wait, because right now he needed to piss, so Ging dropped his pants and relieved himself into the funnel, sighing in relief when he didn’t have any spills. Even though he used the STP daily it was still such a precarious act of skill. Peeing was stressful. 

Ging dribbled a bit of water from a canteen through the STP and shook it dry, then dug out the harness so he could put it on. Once he got his pants back up over it, he was certain he looked as ridiculous as he felt.

But now...the binder.

Ging had slept in it. He wasn’t supposed to do that. Normally he’d have taken it off before bed, but...there was Kite. And now he should take the whole day off of wearing it, but...there is still Kite. 

Ging pulled off his tank top and undid the fastenings on his binder, letting his chest sigh in relief of the pressure. Experimentally, he tried putting the tank back on without it.

His dysphoria hit him like a ceiling collapsing in.

His breasts weren’t large. The first thing Ging did when he got Hunter-level access in the world was get himself on puberty blockers, so they had only grown for a couple of years. They could be much worse. But they still produced a noticeable curve in his figure and the thought of Kite seeing made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

Ging bit his lip. His other shirt, loose and baggy like his pants, and the cloth he wore over it, those would work better. But the weather this time of year in this area was too hot for the shirt’s material, which he’d bought for the much cooler late winter and early spring. he needed to start keeping multiple kinds, but there was only so much room for clothes in the pack.

The other issue was that those clothes were too dirty to wear at the moment. 

“It’s only three days.” Ging said to himself, and fastened his binder back on.

—

“That took forever; are you okay?” Kite asked when he got back. He was sitting under one of the lights, checking the bandage on one of the dogs. 

“Yeah, I just got lost.” Ging lied. 

“How? The paths aren’t that confusing.” Kite said with a frown.

Ging shrugged. “I must still be groggy.”

“Well, wake up.” Kite said, but he said it softly without the typical bite of the phrase.

Ging nodded, watching Kite.

“You take care of the injured animals?” he asked. Kite nodded, tying off the dog’s bandage.

“I try. There’s only so much I can do, though. I mostly just treat wounds and wrap them up when they get hurt. I don’t have enough bandages though.”

“I’ll buy you some more.” Ging offeredinstantly. 

Kite hesitated, then said, “Thank you.”

Ging looked around, rocking on his heels. He didn’t have the time, but his stomach told him it was around ten o’clock.

“We should eat.” he announced.

Kite shrugged.

“I usually skip breakfast. There’s some bread still if you want some, but it’ll be dry by now so don’t expect it to be good.”

Ging shook his head, frowning.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” he said, holding up his palms. “And I’m not gonna take your food, it’s yours. What I’m trying to say is: we’re both going to eat breakfast, and I’m going to make sure it’s a good one because I can tell you only eat once a day, tops. So come on, let’s go.”

Ging gestured towards the way out of the sewer and approached Kite to help him up. Kite narrowed his eyes at him.

“You’re pushy.” he remarked, taking Ging’s hand. Ging gave a sheepish smile.

“Granny calls me determined.”

“You’re more than determined for sure.”

Ging shifted his gaze away, embarrassed. 

“Sorry.” he said quietly, and bit his lip, knowing he’d do it again.

The two left the sewer, and Kite led them to a café. As they walked, they got a lot of glares that were directed at Kite, and by association, Ging. 

“You’re not very popular here, are you?” Ging said quietly. 

“Nope.” Kite answered. 

They kept walking. Ging breathed softly to muffle the pain in his ribs. Kite was quiet the whole way.

When they reached the café, the reception was...not good. 

“Get out! Get out of here!” the lady inside yelled the second Kite walked in the door. “We don’t have any scraps for you, you little thief, and none for your friend here either.”

Ging raised his hand.

“How about for paying customers?” he asked.

The lady scoffed.

“Nice try, kid. I know he doesn’t have any money. And from the looks of you, you’re homeless too.”

Ging frowned.

“I’m a vagabond, I don’t need a house. And I _have_ money.”

“You can call yourself whatever you like, but I’m not going to serve some thieves. When he can pay for all he’s taken and all the trouble he’s caused, then I’ll let you eat. Until then, leave.”

She turned away and Ging’s blood boiled. He strode right up to the counter, pulling out his wallet and checkbook and pen and slapping them all down.

“How much?” he demanded.

The lady turned around, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll let him off the hook for fifty thousand jenny.” she said. “Not kiddy change. Out.”

Ging pulled out his debit card and thrust it at her. His jaw was so clenched that his ears were ringing. 

“Run it.” 

The lady blinked and took the card, humouring him. She stood over the register, punched in the amount, and swiped. As Ging knew it would, the balance cleared.

“Sorry.” the lady said quietly, and handed back his card. 

Ging took it back and scribbled down the amount in his check book. 

“Now how much to buy the place?” he asked.

The lady’s eyes opened wide, as did Kite’s. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“How much to buy the café?” he repeated, standing ready with his check book. “I don’t care if you still operate it and take from the profits; I’ll be gone in three days. But I want the café. We can discuss this over some breakfast, I have nowhere else to be.”

The lady slowly nodded and turned to go upstairs.

“Let me get my husband.” she said.

—

Kite wound up eating his first real meal in ages while sitting at a table with Ging and the couple that owned the café, watching Ging in awe as he negotiated and discussed in a way he had no familiarity with.

Ging cast him a smile while he worked.

“Alright,” Ging said, taking a bite of a savoury pastry, “You’ll sell me the title for the business for ten and a half million jenny?”

The husband nodded.

“So long as we can keep running it for a living. You’re not interested in the profits at all? What’s the point of buying it if you don’t have a goal for it?”

Ging shook his head. 

“I never said I didn’t have a plan.” he corrected. “So here’s what I want, and what I’m offering.”

He pulled out his pen and grabbed a napkin.

“First: This café will offer free food to the local homeless population and distribute its excess goods to the local shelter(s)—“

The husband opened his mouth to object, but Ging held up his hand. 

“Wait until I’m done.” he grumbled. “Second: Fifty percent of the business’s net profits will be donated to either the homeless shelter(s) or to local charities supporting them.

Third: I’ll retain ownership of the location and business. I will exercise my full rights as owner should I come back to town and find that you’re not acting in accordance to the first two points. 

Fourth: You will commit to continuing to run this business. Should this business be voluntarily closed, the deal is forfeit and you will owe the money back, minus one percent for each year the business stayed open. And this, is how much I’ll offer you.”

Ging wrote a number on the napkin and slipped it to the husband.

The man’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.

“A quarter billion jenny!?” he exclaimed. “You can’t possibly have that much!”

“I do, and I’m offering it.” he said calmly. “Do we have a deal?”

The man nodded, stunned.

“Then contact a local lawyer and have the papers drawn up immediately.” Ging said. “I’ll be back before I leave town to sign them and transfer the money to your account. But first, I’ll pay for our breakfast.”

—

The same general series of events happened in three more businesses that had issues with Kite, each one eventually agreeing to Ging’s terms that had them all working with the homeless and animal shelters. He also paid off Kite’s “tab” at every market stall he’d ever stolen from. By the end of the day, Kite was no longer a wanted teen in the city, and Ging felt good about what he was doing for the people and animals he’d encountered on his first trip through town. After it grew dark, Ging purchased some takeout for them and followed Kite back to the sewer. 

Once they were back and the animals graciously greeted, Kite spoke up after spending most of the day quiet. 

“I can’t believe I just watched you do that.” he said, pacing. “I nearly choked on my food at the café when you gave the man the offer. And then I watched you give similar offers to three others! I’ve never dreamed I’d witness so much money changing hands. You did it like it was nothing; how much money do you have!?”

Ging sat on the floor holding a dog in his arms and eating as he watched Kite’s hair swish behind him as he walked. 

“Enough.” he said truthfully. “I told you I could provide for us both. I can, and that won’t change, and you could make the same as a Hunter. That’s all you need to know.”

He left the whole truth, that he’d committed to spend over half his account in one day, unsaid.

“Saying you can keep me fed does _not_ communicate that you have over a billion jenny in disposable income.” Kite shot back. “Why the hell are we in the sewer? I could be in an inn bed.”

“Because I don’t like inns, and all the animals are here. I like spending time with them. If you want an inn room while I’m here I’ll get you one, though.” Ging offered. “Just don’t expect it if you come with me when I leave, because I really don’t use them often.”

“Forget it, I like it down here anyway.” Kite said, still pacing. 

“Kite?” Ging asked.

“Yes?”

“Can we...sit together?”

Kite stopped.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure.”

Kite took a seat next to Ging and Ging handed him the box of food he was eating from so Kite could eat. 

“I haven’t had three meals in one day since I started living on the streets.” he mused aloud.

Ging didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never been in remotely the same boat that Kite’s been in. It made him uneasy to be faced with what he ultimately could never understand. 

“How long is that?” he asked, trying to understand anyway.

“I’m not sure. It’s been...a very long time. At least a few years. Before that I stayed in the shelters. Before that, an orphanage.”

Ging frowned, but then forced down his discomfort.

“I grew up on Whale Island.” he volunteered, trying to make a conversation of it. “I spent most of my time in the forest. Then, when I was twelve, I took the Hunter Exam, and I’ve been on my own since. By choice, though.”

Kite nodded.

“We’re not as different as you think.” he said, stirring the rice around in the box of food. “I left the shelters by choice.”

Ging raised his brow. 

“....Why?” he said after a considerable pause. 

Kite gently shrugged.

“I had my reasons. You don’t like inns; I don’t like the shelters. There’s too many rules. Too much control.”

Ging couldn’t say anything to that. He knew he’d have done the same.

“Do you like living down here?” he asked instead. Kite shrugged again.

“I don’t have an easy answer to that.” Kite said. Ging found himself nodding.

Fair enough. 


	3. The Second Day

Ging was woken early by the pain in his ribs, sharp stabs piercing through him as he breathed. Kite was asleep with the dogs. 

He quietly stood up and crept off to another bend of the sewer, then stripped off his shirt and binder. The release of the pressure on his body hurt almost just as bad as the pressure itself.

Ging sat on the ground, breathing deeply, his chest bare and his shirt and binder clenched in his hand.

He wasn’t sure he could do this.

Ging bit his lip hard, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched, as he withstood the sharp stabbing that spread across his lungs on every breath. It had only been two full days wearing the binder, but that was too much. He could handle the pain; he’d taken worse, but he knew that the pain was his body begging him to leave to binder off. If he had his other clothes, leaving it off wouldn’t even be a question.

No doubt, he’d have to do laundry today. He wouldn’t be able to take two more full days.

He stayed there, just breathing, for a long time. He couldn’t go back to sleep without either putting the binder back on or risking being seen without it. He’d face the day on little rest. 

—

“Ging? Ging!”

Ging was snapped to the present by Kite’s voice, panic engulfing him as he realised Kite might come looking for him.

“I’m here! Don’t worry about me, I’ll be back in a minute!” he called, racing to get his binder back on and situated. Adding the pressure back to his ribs felt like watching a balloon sadly deflate. 

It hurt. 

He pulled his tank top back on and rejoined Kite in what had come to feel like _their_ bend of the sewer. 

“What were you doing?” Kite asked as he arrived, eating the rest of the food from the previous night. 

“Had to pee.” Ging lied. 

Kite raised a brow in suspicion, but didn’t say anything. Still, Ging knew he didn’t believe him. 

“What time is it?” he asked. All Ging could tell was that he’d been awake for hours and it was sometime in the morning.

“How would I know?” Kite said, shrugging. “I don’t have a clock.”

“Having a good sense of time is a good skill for a Hunter.” he said blearily. 

“Then get one.”

Ging opened his mouth to protest but sighed instead.

“Okay. I walked into that.” he said, and sat down.

Kite looked him over. 

“You look terrible.” he said. “Did you sleep?”

Ging shook his head.

“Not much. But I’ll wake up once I find some breakfast and we get going. I need to wash some clothes today. They’re grossly muddy.”

Kite swallowed the bite he was chewing. 

“That’s fine. I need to wash mine too.” he said. “I haven’t washed them in awhile.”

“Sounds like a day, then.” Ging said, grabbing his pack.

The two left the sewers and ventured into town for food, then, once Ging was full and awake, they set off for the edge of town: a natural wall of rock and earth with a steep winding path that led up. 

Kite groaned. 

“I’d hoped you knew a different stream from the one I use.” he complained. “Getting up there is gonna take forever.”

Ging assessed the height and placement of platforms that could hold him. 

“It should take, with rest...about seven minutes, I think.” he said, looking at the top. 

Kite narrowed his eyes.

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re joking.” 

“I’m not.”

Ging took a step away from Kite and focused his aura in his feet, crouching a little for stability. Then, he blasted it out at full force, breaking up the ground and sending himself flying to the top of the wall in no time. He stuck the landing and posed, saying “Ta da!” to no one in particular. He looked down at Kite who was turning rapidly to look at the broken earth, then him, then back again. 

Ging smiled and shrugged off his pack, then began to make his way back down, jumping from platform to platform. When he reached the bottom, Kite wasted no time at all.

“What the hell was that!” he exclaimed. “You made it up in seconds! How did you do that!?”

Kite rambled more until he was breathless. 

“I’ll explain while we do laundry.” he said. 

“How am I getting up there?” Kite asked. “Because I...cannot do that.”

Ging waved his hand.

“I don’t expect you to.” he assured. “I’m gonna carry you up on my back once I’ve had a minute. I can’t guarantee a nice landing, though.”

Kite looked mildly frightened by this. 

“Is that...okay? Will you be able to stand with me on you?” he asked. 

“Don’t worry.” Ging assured. “I can bear a lot more weight than just you. We’ll make it up just fine.”

That seemed to be enough for Kite, though he still looked nervous for the entire time Ging rested. 

“Alright!” Ging said after several minutes, stretching. “Let’s go.”

Ging stood back where he stood the first time, and waited for Kite to get on his back. Kite followed him, but hesitated.

“How do I do this?” he asked, confused.

“Come stand behind me and put your arms around my shoulders.” Ging instructed, and Kite did. 

“Now bring a leg up against my side—“ Ging took Kite’s leg firmly. “—and now jump up and I’ll grab the other one.” he said, and again Kite did as he asked, jumping and making the the two of them wobble a bit before Ging regained his balance. 

“This is fine.” Ging assured, holding Kite’s legs tightly while he clung to his chest. “I’ve got you. You don’t weigh much.”

Ging recentered himself in the middle of the earth he’d broken last time and crouched slightly, building up more aura than he had before. 

“This is going to be jolting.” he warned. “Brace yourself. We’re going on three. One...two...three!”

Ging blasted the aura from his feet and the two of them went flying, Kite gripping him for dear life. They crashed down at the top by Ging’s pack, Ging having taken most of the impact face-first. 

“Ow.” Ging groaned, rubbing his face. The protective aura he’d used softened the impact, but it still hurt. He felt bruised all over and his breathing stabbed through his lungs worse than before. It was a good thing he was about to wash clothes.

“Are you okay, Kite?” he asked, turning to look at the other boy.

Kite was sat on the ground looking at his hands.

“I’m fine.” he said. “We just flew up all that way and we crashed and I’m alive and I’m _fine_. This is crazy. Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ve definitely been worse. I’ll be alright. My ribs just hurt.” Ging said, waving it off. “You ready to go?”

“Mm, yeah.”

Kite rose to his feet and Ging followed suit, picking up his pack and turning to head towards the spot they both knew. 

They headed to where they’d do their wash: a little spring with a pool that flowed into a stream. The water was clear and fresh. Ging had found it on his route to enter the city and used the spring to fill his canteens. 

“I can’t believe we both knew the same spot.” Kite said as they walked up to it. Ging nodded.

“It’s pretty isn’t it?” he said back.

“Mhm.”

And it _was_ pretty. Trees grew around it, one of them flowering. The sunlight speckled stones after passing through the leaves.

Ging took his pack off and set it to the side as he sat down by the pools edge, digging through it to find the bag that had his other shirt, his overcloth, and his visor and head wrap. All of them were caked in mud.

He decided to start with the most important thing first, and took out his shirt, small wash board, and soap. He dunked the shirt in the pool and got to work.

“Oh! You have soap!” Kite exclaimed, catching a glance of it. Ging looked up.

Ging might have visibly recoiled, but blood was definitely flooding his cheeks. Kite had shed his shoes and removed his coat, sash, and shirt and was now taking off his pants as well. Of course, Ging realised, Kite had to take his clothes off to wash them. But he had not consciously understood that until that precise moment, and it occurred to him also that this was the most of a cis boy’s body he’d ever seen. 

Ging flusteredly looked back to washing his garment, not trusting himself to speak for the moment. 

“Oh, sorry.” Kite said, noticing. “Should I have asked? I thought you knew I’d have to undress. I don’t mind you looking, if you’re embarrassed about that. We’re both guys here. I kinda figured you’d have stripped too; that tank top looks like you’ve worn it every day for a couple weeks. The compression top too, I figure.”

Ging’s heart about stopped at the words ‘compression top’. 

“I can’t.” Ging blurted out. Immediately, he regretted it. 

“Why not? You really need to bathe or you’ll smell like sewer.” Kite said, now completely nude and stepping into the pool with his clothes in his arms. His hair spread out around him as he sank into the water. “Wouldn’t we be bathing together at times as we travelled anyway? If it’s about your erection, I’m not bothered, you seem to just be on most the time and I don’t think it’s about me.”

Ging about died. 

“I _do_ not have a hard on.” Ging said, knowing full well that he was digging himself into a hole. “And yeah, we would, but I don’t know if you’re coming with me when I leave.”

“Well I’m certainly not if you won’t bathe when you need it. And I really don’t want to argue on this, but you clearly do, Ging. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like I haven’t gotten them.” 

Ging was blushing furiously. And now he faced a dilemma: he could either agree that he was hard all the time and keep trying to talk his way out of why he wouldn’t bathe, or he could admit he didn’t have a dick. Either way, he lost. 

Ging took a deep breath. He’d have to do it eventually.

“Okay.” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ll bathe with you. But make one wrong comment about my body, and I’ll make you regret it.”

Kite nodded, just his head poking out of the water. 

“I’m not going to pick on you.” he assured. “I’ve met my share of bullies.”

Ging wished that was his concern.

“Okay,” he breathed again, mostly to himself. “I can do this.”

Ging pulled off his tank top, revealing his binder, and took off his pants. He paused.

“ _One_ wrong word.” he warned again. Kite nodded.

His heart pounding, Ging undid the closures on his binder and slid off his harness and boxers, leaving his chest and notable lack of a hard on plain for Kite to see.

Kite said nothing. Ging stepped into the water and sank in until he was up to his shoulders.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Ging asked. 

“I thought I’d let you go first. I don’t want to say the wrong thing.” Kite said calmly. “This is clearly a very big deal for you.”

Ging nodded. 

“It is. I wasn’t going to tell you until you agreed to leave with me.” he said. “I don’t like people knowing. Only three people and my doctors know besides you, and two of them might be dead.”

“Know what?” Kite asked, prompting him to tell more.

Ging grimaced at the thought of saying it.

“Know that I haven’t always been a boy.” Ging admitted. “Know that I’m transgender. Know that I was born as a.....girl.”

Ging shuddered, sinking in the water a little lower.

“But I’m a boy now, and I have been for years.” he continued defensively. “Don’t forget. Or I’ll use your face as a kick board to jump the cliff.”

Kite smiled gently.

“That won’t be necessary, Ging. I don’t think i could think of you any other way.” he assured. “And I won’t tell anyone. You’re not the first trans person I’ve met.”

Ging almost cried in relief as the tension left his body all at once, days of stress swept away. 

“...Really?” he asked. Kite nodded back. 

This time, Ging did cry. This, he realised, was the first time he bared his true self to a person that wasn’t either a doctor or present at his birth. He hadn’t told anyone else. And he felt emotional, overwhelmed by the lack of tension that nine years of hiding had put on his mind. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he held his head in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kite said, moving closer. He stood awkwardly in the water, seeming unsure of exactly what to do. After several moments passed, he ran a hand through Ging’s hair.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to say things to hurt you. And I’m here, you can cry if you need to.”

Ging whimpered. Kite’s voice was soft and soothing.

“I need to do my laundry.” Ging said, tears still coming. “I can’t bind anymore for days. I need my baggy shirt.”

Kite moved to the bank of the pool and grabbed the wash Ging had been doing, bringing it to him. Ging took it graciously, pouring his emotional unrest into working all the mud from his shirt. Kite grabbed his own and began to work on it.

“May I use your soap?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had any for a long while. It’s hard to steal.”

“Of course.” Ging said, passing it.

The two worked in near-silence for a long while, scrubbing at their clothes. Eventually, Ging reached a point where the mud was all out, leaving an earthy ghost of a stain.

“Tch. I’ll have to actually run it through a washer with bleach if I want that out.” he complained. “I hate laundromats.”

Kite laughed as Ging got out from the water to drape the shirt over a tree branch.

“What’s funny?” Ging asked. Kite chuckled more.

“I didn’t think you ever used laundromats.”

—

The day whiled away while the two did their laundry for hours, scrubbing the sewer and mud and everything else out of their garments. 

“Seems kind of pointless, doesn’t it?” Kite said, hanging his pants up to dry. “We’ll be back in the sewer tonight, after all.”

Ging shrugged.

“We’ll wash our clothes at a laundromat before we set sail from the ports.” he said. “Provided that you’ll come with me. I just needed to do it today because if I wore my binder much longer I might’ve put myself in the hospital. I’d been wearing it since the start of the day I met you, and I’m really not supposed to even wear it a whole day like I do, much less almost three days straight. And I cannot go out in my tank without my binder.”

“You were just going to wear it until you left?!” Kite scolded.

“I didn’t want to tell you unless you were coming with me. And don’t give me that, no way you even knew that was bad until just now.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to know that you shouldn’t compress your ribs for three days straight, idiot.”

Ging crossed his arms and huffed. His freshly washed visor was on his head, the matching wrap in his hand to be washed next.

Kite came back into the water to work on his underwear, the last of his clothes. Ging still had quite a bit left.

“That hat looks like it got in a fight with a kitchen knife and lost.” Kite teased. 

Ging gave him a look. 

“I go through at least one of these a year.” Ging said, exasperated. “Work is rough on my clothes. Give me a break.”

Kite chuckled. 

“You take me with you and I’ll see to it that you won’t catch a break for as long as you live, Ging.”

Ging laughed and a grin broke out on his face.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he challenged.

Kite gave a small smile, glancing over to make eye contact for a brief moment.

“Both.”

Ging grinned wider and he returned to washing the head wrap in his hand.

“Good answer. I like you.” 

“You’re not terrible company either.” Kite remarked. “I have to know though; what on Earth kind of work do you do that does _that_ to a hat? I thought you said you dug up ruins, like an archaeologist.”

“Yeah, sometimes the ruins fight back.” Ging explained, probably raising more questions than he answered. “And I’m a Hunter, not an archaeologist. My work in ruins overlaps with their field broadly but I do other work for the money and those jobs can be a bit rougher.”

“They cut chunks out of hat bills?” Kite said incredulously.

“Sometimes monsters and people with knives have a problem with what you’re doing.” Ging elaborated.

“And this is a job you think I’ll want.”

“From what I’ve seen of you? Yeah.”

Kite stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Ging. He stared for a moment.

“You’re interesting.” he said, and went back to cleaning his boxers.

—

Their chores stretched past the noon and afternoon and now it was well into the sunset, Kite and Ging now simply playing in the water as their clothes finished drying. Their hands and feet were beyond pruned. Ging’s hair had been washed and had dried already, but Kite’s was too long to keep out of the water, so the top of his head was dry while everything below his chin stayed soaking wet.

“We really have to get you a way to tie up your hair.” Ging thought aloud. “Why do you keep it so long?”

“I like how it looks and feels.” Kite said, moving his head to feel his hair swish in the water. “Having it long makes me happy.”

Ging wrestled with that idea a bit. His own hair had been the bane of his existence when it was long, even though it was much shorter than Kite’s, even then. It got tangled if he so much as looked at it wrong. And once he had it cut, he’d realised how much he’d hated how it looked. 

“Doesn’t it...get knotted and messy?” Ging tried to understand. Then, in a quieter, more fraught voice, “...Doesn’t it make people think you’re a girl?”

Kite looked up to Ging and, seeing the concern Ging had, frowned gently.

“Sometimes.” he said honestly. “It doesn’t bother me though. I just correct them. I don’t think it’s like what you go through.”

Kite finished his thought with splash, shaking Ging out of the thought hole he was sinking into. 

“It does get messy and tangled though.” Kite continued, changing topic. “I brush it a lot.”

“You have a brush?”

Kite looked at Ging like he’d grown another arm.

“...You _don’t_? Of course I have a brush. My hair hits the tops of my legs! Did you think my hair was magic?”

Ging wasn’t sure if he should answer the first question. It felt like a trap.

“I just never saw you do anything with it.” he said instead. Kite scoffed. 

“That’s because I do it first thing when I wake up in the morning.” he said. “You’ve been either asleep or somewhere else. I’ll have to comb it once we get back, though.”

The next thing out of Ging’s mouth bypassed what passed for thoughts in his head completely.

“Can I help?” he asked in earnest. Then, catching himself, he looked away.

“You can forget I said that.” he muttered. 

Kite stood up and stepped up the side of the pool, wringing out his long hair like a dish rag. 

“We should head back before it’s totally dark.” he said, not addressing what Ging said, much to his relief. “Do you have a towel?”

“Huh? Yeah.”

The two boys dried off and got dressed. Ging repacked his bag. Then he realised he’d still need to pee standing in the sewer, and had to take half his clothes back off, dig out his packer, and get redressed and pack his bag all over again, Kite giggling all the while.

Finally, they were both clean and dressed, and they set off to head back to town, taking the long way down so Kite’s hair had more time to dry before they turned in for the night. 

—

“I’m _starving_!” Ging complained as they got back to their spot in the sewer. He shrugged off his pack and immediately sat down and went to town on the box of food he’d gotten just for himself. 

“It usually takes me a few days for that, but with how much you eat I’m inclined to believe you.” Kite said dryly. Ging suddenly became very aware of the fact that Kite was, in fact, a street kid that up until he’d arrived, had _actually_ starved on the regular.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking and I was exaggerating, and—“

Kite laughed.

“Calm down. I’m just giving you a hard time. You do eat a lot though, I’ve never met someone that eats as much as you do.” 

Ging frowned in embarrassment, a light blush dusting his cheeks. 

“Freecss family appetite, I guess.” Ging muttered, shovelling food into his mouth. “Dad always used to say I eat like he did at my age. I presume it’s still true.”

“That’s your family name? Freecss?” Kite asked. 

“Huh? Yeah.” Ging swallowed another mouthful of egg and beef and rice. “What’s yours?”

“Don’t know.”

Ging figured he probably should have expected that answer.

“That’s fine. You can pick one when I get your papers made. If you come with me, anyway.”

“You’re awfully presumptuous.”

“I’ve just got my hopes up, perhaps.” And he’d had a hunch about how the whole thing would go from the beginning, which, aside from buying some businesses and coming out, had more or less been playing out like he’d expected it to.

Kite finally broke the seal on his own box of food and began to eat. He had far more food than he could possibly eat on his own, so he tossed bits of his meat to the dogs around them. 

“Once I’m done eating I’m going to brush my hair.” he announced. He looked to Ging. “I’ll let you help with it if you tell me how you can jump up whole cliffs.”

Ging’s face scrunched up in embarrassment and he shifted his gaze away.

“I told you to forget I asked that.” he complained. Kite smirked.

“Hm, I must’ve forgot that instead. Do we have a deal or what?”

Ging grumbled in agreement. 

And that’s how Ging found himself sitting behind the other boy, his lap full of Kite’s slightly damp hair, the head of a brush in his hand.

“You said you had a brush.” Ging said, taking the hair in his hand so he could get at the ends.

“That is a brush.” Kite retorted. Ging clicked his tongue.

“This is half a brush, tops”

“It’s the useful half, though. Tell me how you can jump cliffs.”

Ging conceded about the brush, mentally noting to get him a new one, and began to explain the basics of nen while he brushed Kite’s hair. 


	4. The Last Day

When Ging awoke the next morning, he was pleased to not be woken by pain but by a dog licking his face. Kite was brushing his hair a few feet away.

“Good morning.” he said, noticing that Ging had woken up. “You did good with my hair last night. It’s easy to comb today.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome.” Ging said, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He yawned. “What time is it?”

“Still don’t have a clock.” Kite reminded him. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Right.”

Ging’s sense of time wasn’t doing so well staying deep in badly lit sewer. Getting a feel for the time would have to wait until he was outside. 

“We’ve got a busy day today.” he said, stretching to touch the toes of his boots. “Contracts to sign, shopping to do, decisions to make. Busy.”

Kite raised a brow.

“Shopping?” he asked. 

Ging nodded and pulled his legs back to sit cross legged. 

“Yeah. You need stuff. You aren’t prepared to go with me if you decide to, and even if you don’t, you need some supplies and extra clothes and stuff anyway. I’m not going to leave you here without at least doing what I can to make sure your life will be easier.” he said.

Kite looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He kept his mouth slightly open in silence for a long pause before quietly thanking him instead.

Ging wondered what he’d wanted to say instead. He thought about asking. 

“You’re welcome.” he said instead. 

Ging busied himself with the laces on his boots as Kite continued with his hair, making sure he was looking literally anywhere but at Kite so that he wouldn’t appear strange or creepy. He just really liked Kite’s hair. Brushing it the night before had reminded him of being younger, brushing the hair of his doll, or helping Mito and his mother with theirs. Brushing out hair was something he enjoyed doing so long as _his_ hair wasn’t a part of it. 

He thought about what the day would hold for him, anxiety rising in his chest. He hoped that his efforts to win Kite over had actually played out smoothly. He hoped that he’d been enjoyable the the last few days. In retrospect, he probably sounded really weird when he’d first offered to take Kite along with him. He just...didn’t want to leave him here. Not when he seemed like someone he could get along with and he had the financial standing to help. He’d do what he could to help regardless, and if Kite didn’t want the help he could give it to someone else, but he really hoped that Kite would let him do more.

He wondered if his dad had felt this way when he met his mom. She’d been a stowaway on a ship he was working on; she didn’t have a home either when they met. His dad had assumed responsibility for her so she could stay. Maybe growing up hearing about that was why he couldn’t just walk past beggars and the homeless now. Why he was so fixated on Kite. Maybe his dad had felt the same kinship when he met his mom that he felt meeting Kite. 

“Ging, you there?”

Ging snapped out of his thoughts to find Kite standing over him.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” Ging said. 

“You sure? You were messing with your laces for awhile. Anyway, you said we have a busy day. Let’s get going. I want to eat.” Kite said. 

Ging felt good hearing Kite say that he wanted to eat breakfast. Small steps.

“Yeah,” Ging replied. “We can eat at the café again. We’ll have to go there anyway.”

Kite hummed in agreement and Ging got up, made sure he had everything he needed, and followed Kite out of the sewer.

—

“Miss me?” Ging said, barging into the café grinning. The woman they met before spun around at the counter.

“Oh! It’s you! We were wondering if you really intended to come back.” she said.

Ging clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Of course I came back. I have a vision for this place. I don’t abandon things I want. So let’s get this started! We’ll do business over breakfast again; Kite and I are starved.”

The woman nodded and left to get her husband, and he and Kite sat down at a table.

“You’re really doing this, huh?” Kite asked.

Ging nodded. “Like I said. I don’t abandon things I want.”

“But it’s not even for you, you’re just being altruistic. Not to mention that this business is hardly worth a fraction of what you’re paying. Why?”

“Because otherwise they’d never agree. And I have no interest in owning a shop in name only. I want what I asked for.” Ging said. “And it’s hardly altruistic if I feel good about doing it.”

Kite looked like he wanted to disagree, but didn’t.

“So you’re really going through with all of them, huh?” he asked instead.

“Of course.”

The woman and her husband emerged from the stairs bearing papers and separated, the woman going to prepare food and the man taking the papers to the table where Ging and Kite sat.

“Ah, Ging, right? Good to see you back. And you too, ah,“ He paused as he turned to face Kite. “I forget your name. What was it again?”

“Kite.” Kite said dully. Ging guessed that his thoughts were the same as his own: that the man had never bothered to ask his name before in the first place.

“Kite! Fine name. Thank you for bringing your friend here to us.” 

_Would have been a nice attitude to have been greeted with when we came here two days ago_ , Ging thought to himself. Kite didn’t comment. Money changes _everything_. 

“I’m happy to be here, Mr. Turlupp.” Ging said, beaming his best business grin. “Are those the sale terms and contracts? I need to read over them.”

“Hm? Of course.”

Mr. Turlupp handed the papers to Ging, and stood awkwardly at the edge of the table, as if unsure of where he was allowed to be in what was still, at the moment, his establishment.

Yeah, money changes everything.

Ging read through the wording of the terms in the papers in relative peace, Mr. Turlupp hovering over the table until Kite finally had enough and invited him to sit. Mrs. Turlupp brought plates of meat, egg, and potatoes for them to eat, which Kite took to graciously. Ging nibbled at his as he read. 

“Everything seems in order.” Ging said after a while, his breakfast having long since grown cold.

“Great!” Mr. Turlupp said excitedly. “So we have a deal? You’ll sign?”

“It’s what I’m here to do. Got a pen?”

“Of course, let me get one.”

Ging shovelled food in his mouth while he waited. He was disappointed to eat cold food but it was there and he was hungry. He’d just eat around the eggs; meat and potatoes weren’t bad cold.

“Here you go.”

Mr. Turlupp handed him a pen as he returned to the table. 

And so Ging multitasked, fork in his left hand and pen in his right, eating and initialling and scrawling his signature at every place marked through each of the twenty or so pages stacked in front of him. Each he finished was handed off to Mr. Turlupp for him to sign in turn.

And then, they were done. 

“Time for the exciting part, huh?” Ging joked, pulling out his check book. He flipped it open and wrote out for the outrageous amount of money he was trading for the ownership of the place. He filled out the whole thing, signed it, and handed it over, once again beaming his business smile. It perhaps didn’t look too different from any other big grin he gave, but it certainly felt much different. 

“The Hunter’s Association emblem on that will get it priority processing at any bank.” Ging explained. “You’ll be in the lap of luxury by tomorrow if you take it today.”

The Turlupps missed most of that.

“Hunter?!” they exclaimed in unison.

“You’re a Hunter?” said the wife.

“You worked for all this money!?” said the husband.

Ging scoffed.

“Well, I certainly didn’t inherit it.” he laughed. His family wasn’t wealthy and neither was his birthplace. Back on Whale Island they’d think he was richer than God.

Kite was looking between the two parties while sucking on the tines of his fork. Ging wondered what he thought of it all.

“Well, that’s about all, isn’t it?” he said, ignoring that they were still caught on his profession. “I must apologise, but I have a very busy day lined up. Kite and I have to go. Thank you for the food and the business.”

He stood up, Kite following suit, and extended a hand for them each to shake. Mr. Turlupp stammered something about it being a pleasure. They left.

“Thank God to be through with that, right?” he remarked to Kite, gesturing behind them. He wore a more genuine smile now. “Now we just got to do it three more times.”

Kite gave him a pained expression that was quickly cracked by a smile creeping on his lips, and the two started laughing together. 

“At least it’s only three.” Ging argued. “We’re saved from a much more boring day by the fact that I’m not completely made of money.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” Kite remarked.

“My funds are not without limit, unfortunately.” Ging said in exaggerated lament. “Imagine all the ruins I could preserve with that kind of funding. Imagine what I could do here. I could make this the best place in the world for the impoverished. Fuck, I could eliminate poverty here entirely.”

Ging let that thought sit with them a little bit. He wished he could do more. He just hoped that his plan with four of the major businesses in the area would prove helpful enough.

And so they made their way to the seafood shop, where the needy would be able to get prepared or unprepared fish to eat. Proceeds would be split fifty-fifty between shelters for animals and ones for humans. The owner actually had the price reduced in the contract from what was offered, saying that he felt bad taking so much money from a kid. Ging wanted to argue, but Kite had quickly thanked him instead.

Then came the grocery store, which would supply people with non-food (and food) items that they needed. No one would consider soap a luxury like Kite had, and no one would need to steal it. Or anything else, for that matter. The old lady that ran the store had been enthusiastic about Ging’s plans. She simply couldn’t afford the losses to do it before. Proceeds there would be split among the city’s shelters, by her request. 

The last was a drug store, where people would be able to get medicines, bandages, menstrual supplies, and whatever else of the sort that they needed under Ging’s sale terms. It had been the hardest of the four to negotiate, the owner being closed minded and, in Ging’s opinion, a pain in the ass. Ging had name-dropped his profession at this store already, using it as the universal “do what I want” password that it often tended to be. A Hunter license carried levels of prestige...and access, to the world above as well as the underworld. Ging didn’t like to use threats. But he was not opposed to letting people imagine them themselves if they were pissing him off or denigrating the poor or in this case, both. The owner left the arrangement much more wealthy and much less hostile. Again. Money changes everything. 

“Finally.” Ging said as he and Kite left the drug store. “We’re done. Now we can just shop in peace and turn in for the day.”

_And_ find out what you’ve decided, he kept to himself. 

“Sounds fine to me.” Kite said, stretching. “I’m just glad I don’t have to attend any more business meetings.”

Ging couldn’t argue with that. He was too.

So they headed uptown, both figuratively and literally, as the higher in class you went in town, the higher up physically you got. Kite led them to a street full of shops and boutiques, thrift stores, and more.

“I’ve never stolen from these places.” Kite reassured. “I’d get jailed if I tried that up here. So I’ve only been here on whims, or when I’ve had a bit of money. Like when I got my hat. I haven’t been in most of these places.”

Ging nodded.

“Well, you’ll get acquainted with them today. We’ll probably be in most of them at some point.” he said. “Let’s find you a good backpack first.”

—

The two of them headed back to the sewer, a fully filled pack on Kite’s back and boxes of food in their hands. Ging ate as he walked. It was evening, the moon and starlight shining down more and more as they left the higher class parts of town that had better streetlights. 

“It’s a nice night.” Ging commented between bites. “Makes me want to lay out here.” 

Kite stared up at the sky. 

“Me too. Do you want to go back to the spring when we’re done eating? A dip under the moonlight sounds nice.”

That _did_ sound nice. Ging wanted to say yes to that more than anything. But it was the last night. He had to be up and ready to leave in the early morning. 

“I can’t.” he confessed. “Once I’m done with my food I have to take my things and check into an inn for the night. I hate it, but I need the shower and alarm clock. I have to be out of here early tomorrow.”

Ging watched Kite’s face fall, glance at how much he’d already eaten, then fall more. 

“Ah.” he said quietly. “I didn’t realise we were separating tonight.”

The “so soon” was left unspoken but Ging heard it all the same. 

He shrugged. 

“It’s what it is. If you plan to stay, it’s goodbye soon. I’m a man of my word; I won’t try to force you to leave. But if you decide you want to come with me, go to the inn on 27th. The receptionist will have instructions to send you to my room. You’ll have until I leave at dawn tomorrow.”

The time between then and Ging leaving passed quickly. Kite picked at his food while Ging gathered his things and said his goodbyes to the animals. Then, it was time to leave.

Ging stood in front of Kite, his pack on his back. His eyes were on his. Kite looked sad, and Ging was sure he looked the same.

“It’s time to go.” he said somberly. He held out a hand to help Kite up, but Kite stood without it. 

Ging continued, looking at the ground now, unable to meet Kite’s eyes anymore. 

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but it was a pleasure getting to meet you. If I’m ever back here, I’ll look for you. I’ll never forget you. I hope that everything I’ve done helps you and the people here. And the animals. I’ll miss them too. I hope I’ll see you again.” 

Kite didn’t say anything but wrapped his arms around Ging and stood like that for an amount of time Ging couldn’t measure. Shyly, he brought his arms up to return the embrace. 

“I’ll miss you.” he murmured when Kite let go. Kite just nodded. 

“Goodbye, Ging.” he managed.

“Goodbye, Kite.” Ging said, turning away to leave. “The inn on 27th. I’ll be there waiting.”


	5. The Last Night

Ging left the sewer and went back uptown, his spirits down. He’d thought that Kite would’ve agreed by now. So he was facing reality: that Kite might not come with him. It wasn’t that he didn’t know it could happen, he knew it could. But over the last three days there was a kinship between them forming, and he trusted Kite, and he thought the feeling was mutual. He wanted it to be.

“I need a room for one, please.” he said when he finally got to the desk at the inn. Then, on a bit hope, “Actually, make that a room for two.”

“I can’t give a room to a minor without their guardian present.” the woman at the desk said, her voice soft like she was consoling a kid. Ging groaned. Every time. Half of why he hated inns was that he hated being treated like a kid. 

“Here, this says you can.” he said, pulling out his Hunter license. The woman’s eyes widened and she quickly apologised and got the arrangements for his stay set up.

She handed Ging the key to his room after he paid.

“Thank you.” he said, stuffing it in his pocket. “Listen. There’s a guy my age; his name is Kite. He has really long white hair. If he comes here and asks about me, send him to my room. Give him a key if there’s another.” 

The woman wrote it all down, affirmed his request, and Ging went to his room, saying nothing more except a thank you.

The room was nothing special, but Ging liked that. He took off his pack and boots and sprawled out on the bed by the window, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. 

He missed Kite already.

The trip to the spring at night sounded really nice. He wished that he could have stayed and done that. Go out, swim, come back, go to sleep in a pile of dogs...wake up to Kite combing his hair...he’d grown to really enjoy being here with Kite. But he was not a stationary person. He seldom ever stayed in place for long. And there were hunts to go on. He couldn’t stay. 

Ging rolled onto his stomach. He wondered if his dad had had this experience with his mom. He couldn’t remember if the story he’d been told ever elaborated on if Mom had been indecisive about whether to stay with his father. Her circumstances were different though. She didn’t have stable shelter like Kite. She probably felt like she had no choice.

Ging wanted Kite to have a choice. He didn’t want him to come with him because he had to, but because he wanted to. He made sure while he was here that Kite would be okay if he stayed. 

Ging sat up and started to undress. He needed a shower, and maybe the hot water would calm his thinking. He could sit in the shower stall and pretend it was rain. He liked to do that. 

“At the very least it’ll feel nice.” he muttered.

He went to the bathroom and opened the door to the shower, setting down his soap and shampoo and absently messing with his hair as he fiddled with the water temperature. When it was suitable, he stepped in with his bottles and sat himself right on the floor. 

The shower was not a roomy one. Sitting on the floor, all he needed to do was recline a bit and he’d hit a wall, no matter the direction. It was like being in a capsule. But that was fine. This way, he could lean against something as the water rained over him and just relax.

It was easier in his budget simulation of a rainforest for him to accept the outcome of everything, easier to remind himself that he liked his solitary life plenty well. Out on his own, nothing stopped him from meandering, from sitting down against a tree to be rained on. No one held him to a schedule or pinned him down. And those were good things; he didn’t want them to change.

Of course, when he’d extended the offer to Kite, he hadn’t really thought they would. He had a good eye for personality types, and Kite...Kite would do those things with him. Of this he was certain. 

And perhaps that’s why Kite stuck in his head so bad —he was like him. Ging hadn’t ever met someone like him. And though Kite hadn’t gone to any length to show him that they were indeed cut from the same cloth, it still bled through in the threads of their frayed edges. Shared opinions, shared desires. The same stubborn attachment to their atypical ways of life.Ging was certain that with more time, there’d be much more. He related to and felt an immediate kinship with Kite. That was more than he could say about practically every friend he’d had before. 

Ging sighed and washed himself, letting the repetitive tasks distract him before he got disappointed again.

He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, pretending still that he was in the rain somewhere far away. Cold rain just did not have the same appeal.

He got out of the shower and helped himself to a towel stocked on a shelf, rubbing it roughly against his head until all the excess moisture was gone. The rest of the water clinging to his body got wiped up in turn and he wrapped the towel around his waist to go back to the rest of the room.

There waiting for him, sitting on the second bed, was Kite.

Ging stood stunned for a second, and covered his chest on reflex.

“You came.” he said dumbly. “They gave you a key then?”

Kite laughed.

“Yeah, I came. And no, were they supposed to? I knocked and you didn’t respond, so I jimmied it open with a card.”

Ging chuckled, enjoying the feeling in his chest as he continued into the room. 

“Some security this place has.”

“Use the chain locks, then, moron.”

Ging shot a look at Kite, tossing the towel to the side. He pulled out some fresh underwear and put them on, leaving off his packer since he had a real toilet he could use, at least til morning. And he...really didn’t have to pass as cis every second of the day if it was just Kite that could see. He knew. He was safe.

He dropped the arm from his chest, letting himself get more accustomed to feeling exposed in Kite’s presence. He got onto the bed and sat crosslegged facing Kite.

“So you’re coming with me?” he asked, afraid to get his hopes up. 

Kite nodded. Ging exhaled slowly.

“What...changed your mind?”

Kite pursed his lips.

“Well, I guess in the end it was that I missed you. Enough to make me leave the dogs after rebandaging them and saying goodbye. I feel like there’s something worth exploring with you that I’d never get a glimpse of if I stayed here. I only lived with you three days and I had my mind blown repeatedly. You live a life I never dreamed of, and I want to live it too.” he said, thinking over every word. “You said I’d never be hungry or without necessities again. You said you’d teach me how to provide for myself so I’m not reliant on you. I believe you now. I trust you now. I want to learn.”

Kite stared out the window and then looked back to Ging.

“But more than anything,” he continued. “I want to stay in your company. You’re someone I don’t want to let walk away like everyone else has.”

Kite got off the bed and began stripping his clothes off, picking up Ging’s towel and wrapping it around his waist once he lost his pants.

“Now excuse me...but I’m going to go have a real shower for once.” he said, and left Ging staring aimless sitting on the bed.

There were a million things to think and feel. On some level he was experiencing all of them. But in the moment the only thought that came to fruition was guilt for leaving Kite with only cold water. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> Also, like all works in this series, this is kinfic, and if it sounds familiar to you I am BEGGING you to let me know because I’ve been trying to find my Kite.


End file.
